


The Quiet

by FourChevrons



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe, Clary is an ASMRtist, F/M, Jace has bad music taste, Multi, Neighbors, Serious, Summer, kind of a thriller, short fic, side malec - Freeform, side sizzy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-24 22:10:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14963117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FourChevrons/pseuds/FourChevrons
Summary: It's summer and Clary is a youtuber who does ASMR videos. She is often interrupted filming by a new boy next door with his loud music and parties.Soon she'll find out the golden haired boy is the least of her problems and that her summer is far from peaceful.





	The Quiet

Everything was set—the tripod holding the camera, the lighting, the mic, the brushes lined up to the side, and most importantly, the silent environment. Clarissa Morgenstern sat in front of her table with all the equipment. She tucked a lock of her curly scarlet hair behind her ear and looked up at the camera. She pressed the record button.

“Hey, everybody,” Clary whispered to the mic. “Welcome back to my channel. In today’s video, I am going to give you tingles with the help of my trusty brushes.” She held up a pastel blue foundation brush to the camera and slowly stroked the microphone.

Clary started her ASMR channel a year ago, it started as a past time hobby, uploading only twice a month. However her video, ‘1 Hour of Painting and Drawing ASMR (soft spoken, lots of pencil sounds, and visual stimulation)’gained popularity and her subscriber count increased rapidly. Ever since then, her channel became a priority along with her Tisch application form and college program.

It was her third brush sweeping the microphone when a boisterous song abruptly started playing from next door. ‘ _So you’re still thinking of me, just like I know you should’_ Clary huffed and threw her paintbrush on the floor. “Unbelievable,” She got up and strode to her bedroom window. “ _’Young, Dumb, and Broke’,_ really?” Being interrupted midway her video was slightly tolerable, but being interrupted by a mainstream Khalid song was unforgivable.

As Clary peered through the window, she saw in the neighbor’s room directly across her own, was a blonde boy around her age. His head was bobbing to the song, his lips mouthing the lyrics, and he was unboxing some stuff. In all her five years of living in their neighborhood, the room across her never had an occupant. There were three other things Clary noticed—one; the new boy was shirtless, two; he was undeniably handsome, and three; he was looking at her.

The blonde stopped unpacking and opened his window, “Hey, there. I’m Jace.” He shouted over Khalid.

Clary unlatched her own window. “Yeah, nice to meet you,” Her tone was far from pleased. “Can you turn that thing down? I’m trying to film something and it’s disturbing me.”

“What are you filming?” Jace’s eyes wandered over her shoulder and in to her bedroom. He had strange colored eyes, Clary thought, it was like honey. “Are you a vlogger or something?” He asked, seeing her equipment on her table.

With great effort, Clary tried to stop her eyes from rolling. She wondered what she looked like to the newcomer—all frizzy ginger hair, an annoyed face with freckles, wearing an oversized shirt captioned with ‘MORE MSG AND LESS LSD’ “No, I just do videos.” She raised her voice over the infernal racket of his speakers. Hell, she didn’t want the neighbor kid to find out her channel. The only three people in her life knows about her channel—Simon and of course, Jocelyn and Valentine, whose money funds her equipment.

“Okay, Ms. Shady Business.” Jace leaned against the window frame with a cocky attitude.

“Excuse me?” Clary crossed her arms, “Whatever do you mean by that?”

“For all I know, you could be doing YouTube tutorials on how to cut cocaine or how to roll a blunt.” Jace said nonchalantly, a playful smile on his lips.

Clary had the feeling Jace was teasing her and somehow it aggravated her more. She could be filming smoothly right now, instead of talking to this boy with a nice chest. “That’s what you’ve concluded after seeing _make-up and watercolor brushes_ splayed on my desk? You’d make a pretty shitty detective.”

“Then you’re a beauty guru?” His tawny eyes ran up and down her figure in crucial assessment. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

Douchebag.  Clary pursed her lips in clear vexation. “Listen, all I ask is for you to turn your basic Spotify playlist off. Is that so hard to do?” She’s had enough of shouting over the top of her lungs and controlling her temper.

Jace grinned as if enjoying pissing her off. “Tell me your name and I’ll stop.”

“It’s Clary!” She said sharply and shut her window. Before drawing the curtain, she saw Jace wink at her. “Unbelievable.”

Returning to her table, she realized she left the video recording. “Great, I have to edit that unpleasant encounter out.” Clary pressed stop and drew back in her chair. The music from next door halted and Clary prayed Jace wouldn’t be a nuisance ever again. She doubted it, she never was an optimist.

Clary picked up the brush she left on the floor and fixed her materials before pressing play. She was just 5 minutes in the video when Valentine’s voice boomed coming from the hallway outside her door, “I’m sick of this, Jocelyn. How many times have I told you already?”

Then followed by her mother’s voice, “Not enough! It’s never enough with you.” Clary heard a door shut and somebody banging furiously on it.

“Jocelyn, come out!” Valentine roared, “You can’t hide in there forever.”

“Watch me!” said Jocelyn, her voice barely audible in Clary’s room.

There they go again, fighting as usual. Clary wondered who’s at fault this time. In the past few months, her parent’s fights became more and more frequent and Clary worried whether something happened between them and they kept it from her and Jonathan. Not that Jonathan cares, spending most of his time in Boston and barely coming home. She took a deep breath and stopped filming. The room felt like it was closing in on her. Clary despised having her parents down on each other’s throats. She needed relief.

From the table, beside her brushes, Clary grabbed her phone and dialed her best friend. He picked up on the second ring. “Clary berry, what’s up?”

She closed her eyes and tried to drown out the shouting. “Save me, Si. Meet me outside my house?”

Simon heard the urgency in her voice. “Are they at it again?”

“Yeah.”

“Be there in ten, and bring money this time. I am not treating you another expensive milk tea once more.” And he hung up.

In a few minutes, Clary grabbed her purse and phone and dressed herself in a green tank top and jeans. The yelling subsided but Clary knows from experience it’ll return soon and repeat the cycle until one of her stubborn parents apologizes. She left her room and saw the hallway was empty and her parent’s bedroom door was still shut. Television noises came from the living room downstairs indicating where Valentine was. She trudged down the stairs and saw him watching History Channel.

“Clarissa,” He didn’t look away from the TV screen. “Where are you going?”

“Meeting Simon.” Was all she said, looking at her father being bathed in television light—his white blonde hair a stark contrast to the dim living room. It was his habit to leave the lights off. Clary doesn’t get why he does it.

“Be safe.” His usual reply came.

And with an “Okay,” Clary exited the house and sat on the front steps.

Clary relaxed and breathed in the cool evening air. Times like these, the house felt suffocating to her. The outside always gave her relief. She eyed the area—nobody was out, only a few cars passed by, and clouds dwelled on the night sky, covering the stars. Clary hugged her knees and waited for her friend.

 

*            *            *            *            *

Simon Lewis walked the familiar street for probably the thousandth time. Clary’s neighborhood maintained a serene vibe, even if it’s in Brooklyn. It suited his best friend; she did after all have an ASMR channel. He neared Clary’s brownstone house and his gaze immediately landed on her small figure on the steps. There were times when Simon thought Clary was too small for this wide universe.

“Whose fault is it this time?” Simon held his hand out, aiding the red-haired girl to stand up.

Even when she’s standing three steps above Simon, Clary was still short. “I don’t even want to know. I just need a break.”

“Where to?”

Clary looped an arm around his chest and closed her eyes. “Java Joneeeees.” She dragged on, pouting.

“Poor creature, being treated badly by the world. Boo hoo.” Simon poked her nose and she scrunched up her face.

They were walking down the street when Simon glimpsed a blonde boy smoking in the lawn next to Clary’s. He was partly hidden by the shrubbery, but Simon could see the cigarette in his fingers and the smoke he puffed. “Clary, who’s that?” He pointed at the guy, Clary followed his gaze.

“Sadly, there’s a new neighbor.” She rolled her eyes, “His name’s Jace.”

“Why do I get the feeling you hate him?”

“Hate’s a strong word, more like dislike.” And Clary told Simon the encounter she had earlier.

Just a few minutes away from Java Jones when she had finished telling the story in full detail, Simon stared at Clary in disbelief. “You said that to him?”

Clary raised her hands in defense, “What? He played Young, Dumb & Broke and after that was Gucci Gang. I’m glad he actually stopped blasting his shitty songs.”

“They’re right, small people are horrible.” They crossed the street together and café’s, diners, and restaurants dominated both sides of the street.

“Hey, he ruined my filming, insulted me, and accused me of being a cocaine user.”

“I’m pretty sure he was kidding and you know it. Why did you have to be so hard on Jace?” Simon’s eyebrows were raised in question.

She sighed. “Filming has been pretty hard recently—I just don’t want another nuisance like him.” With the shouting, pounding of doors, and angry stomping, Clary has been struggling finding a perfect time to film.

“Hopefully, you’ll get move once you start in Tisch or better, they work things out.” Simon opened the door to Java Jones and let Clary go in first.

“ _If_ Jocelyn agrees to get me an apartment in Manhattan, Valentine’s been always cool with stuff. You know how they are.” She said, heading to the far corner of the coffee shop where they usually sit.

A fair amount of people was in Java Jones for the night. It seemed that there was a spoken word poetry going on. The mini stage was occupied by a thin caramel skinned man with dark hair; he gripped a piece of paper and read to the mic:

              _Between the cities_

_Between the thrills_

_There’s something inside you_

_It doesn’t sleep well_

Clary picked a red booth as their place and sat down. “Anyways, enough about me, what’s up with you?”

“Well, for your information I’m going to be a part time barista here,” He waved a hand around the place, “Starting tomorrow.”

“Holy shit, why?” Clary said, looking at her best friend across the table.

Simon leaned back against the plush red seat. “For financial funding during summer and making connections so our band can play gigs here.”

As much as Clary wanted to support Simon’s music endeavors, his band was stagnant. Yes, they were capable of playing instruments, but that was it. All they ever do was hang out in their drummer’s—Eric, garage and think of far from cool band names. The only progress they ever make is the constant change in their band name. Which is why Clary was surprised when Simon said, “Also, Horny Albert is on a roll these days. We’re in the middle of finishing our first song. It’s gonna be duh-mazing.”

“Great, can’t wait to hear it on my thirtieth birthday.” She said dryly.

Simon gave her the finger. “Hmph, Just you wait, Clarissa.” He left his seat to order.

Looking out the window, Clary could see the busy streets of Brooklyn. People heading to different directions, cars struggling to find a decent parking space, and restaurants were crowded during this time of night. In the alley of two buildings across the street, there was a figure hidden in the dark. Clary squinted her eyes to get a better look. It felt like it was staring at her.

“Clary!” Simon called out from the counter, “The usual latte?”

She whipped her head and nodded. When Clary looked back at the alley, it was empty.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments of criticisms, compliments, and reactions are welcome anytime. :) Thank you for reading.


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